Copyright

© 2018 Dr. Joseph Parent Winnie the Pooh text and characters © Disney Enterprises,
Inc. Based on the “Winnie the Pooh” works by A. A. Milne and E. H. Shepard Designed by
Megan Youngquist Parent Illustrated by Denise Shimabukuro This book is not intended as a
substitute for consultation with or treatment by a physician or other qualified health care
professionals. Neither the publisher nor the authors take any responsibility for any possible
consequences to any person from any treatment, action, or application of medicine, herb, or
preparation undertaken based on the information, explicit or implied, in or from this book.

All rights reserved. Published by Disney Editions, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of
this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval
system, without written permission from the publisher.

For information address Disney Editions, 1200 Grand Central Avenue, Glendale, California
91201.

ISBN 978-1-36802768-7
 Dedicated to my teachers,
Who led me on the path of wakefulness,
And to my wife, family, and friends,
Who have made the journey
So delightfully colorful.

J.P.

To Michael and Howard,

Wishing you a gently mindful journey.

N.P.
 Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Introduction
Mindful and Kind
Just Doing
Body and Mind
Kindhearted and Caring
Aimless Wandering
Natural Magic
Explore Your Senses
You Have Everything You Need
Forest Bathing
Taming Your Mind
More Curious than Afraid
Believe in Yourself
One Thing at a Time
Waking Up
Love and Gratitude
Sandwich of the Day
Parting Words
References and Recommended Readings
About the Authors
Winnie the Pooh and his friends live in an enchanted world of natural beauty: the
Hundred-Acre Wood. Pooh is the perfect guide to take you on a gently mindful
journey. A simple “Walk in the Wood” can open the door to a life-changing
experience—a discovery of profound peace of mind through the deeply
gratifying richness of sense perceptions.
Mindfulness is a state of full awareness, moment by moment, present to all
one’s experiences, without judgment or bias. Such awareness encompasses
external perceptions as well as internal feelings, emotions, and thoughts.
Practicing mindfulness begins with setting the intention to be more fully in
the here and now. After settling into your physical presence, you focus on a
sense experience, like the feeling of your breath going in and out. The main
work of the practice is bringing your attention back to its focus as soon as you
recognize that you’ve drifted off in thoughts.
The goals are to be able to pay attention more completely to what you are
doing, to maintain that for longer periods of time, to notice more quickly when
your mind wanders, and to bring yourself back again and again.
The benefits of mindfulness are well recognized: peace of mind; calmness
and stress reduction; the opportunity to work through and transform painful
thoughts, memories, and worries, as well as acceptance of the changes and
challenges life brings.
There is also a growing acknowledgment of the benefits of deeply
experiencing nature. The calming quality of sounds like running water and
rustling leaves, the soothing quality of smells like lavender and chamomile, and
the emotional comfort of beautiful natural vistas are well documented.
Access to the healing qualities of mindfulness in nature is very timely for our
stressful, fast-paced modern world. One response to this has been the emergence
of a program that began in Japan in the early 1990s. It is called shinrin-yoku,
which roughly translates as “forest bathing.” But it doesn’t involve dipping
yourself in water. Rather, you immerse yourself in sense awareness of the
natural environment—sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and sensations. Like a
warm, soothing bath, you experience the healing qualities of communing with
nature. And mindfulness of sense perceptions is the ideal vehicle to truly
immerse yourself in that experience.
When the mind is absorbed in mindfulness and bathed in the sense
perceptions of nature, you are less focused on your physical and emotional pain,
anxiety, and stress. Feeling better creates a positive momentum toward true well-
being.
being.
The stories in this book follow Pooh through the course of one day. It begins
with waking up, then a session of morning exercises, mindfulness practice, and
contemplations on kindness. He takes a “Walk in the Wood,” delighting in the
magic of natural beauty with a childlike spontaneity. He has adventures with
friends he meets along the way, encouraging them to be confident, considerate,
fearless, cheerful, and relaxed. Pooh’s experiences inspire deep insights into life,
as well as the appreciation he feels for his friends and nature. Upon returning
home, he reflects on the day and sets his aspirations for the future.
Along with each story is a description of the perspectives and practices that
you can use to learn about mindfulness, deepen your experience of it, and guide
you in immersing yourself in the magic of nature. As Pooh discovered,
mindfully exploring nature and engaging with friends is an ideal path for
working with your own habits, attitudes, and emotions, while cultivating more
meaningful relationships with others.
It was morning, the way most days begin. Winnie the Pooh woke up, which was
how he liked to start each morning.
He stretched out his arms and legs. A sigh that was mostly a yawn (or was it
a yawn that was mostly a sigh?) started deep inside, wound its way up through
his nose, and found its way out his mouth with an “aahhh” and an “uhhmmm.”
He sat up, stretched a little more, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Pooh gave himself a little shake all over, in case any of him hadn’t woken up
yet, then sat up again, nice and straight.
He took in a big breath of fresh air, held it for a moment, and blew it all the
way out. Pooh did so three times every morning, to clear the stale air from his
body and the sticky cobwebs from his mind.
Next, Pooh opened his eyes very wide to take in all that he could see—
colors, shapes, and different shades of light and dark. There were beams of
yellow sunlight dancing on the wall, his brown chair in the corner, and a picture
of a very pink Piglet on the table.
Pooh opened his ears to take in all the sounds he could hear—near and far,
loud and soft, high and low. There was the tick-tock-tick of his Pooh-Coo Clock
on the wall, the birds chirping songs outside his window, and the gentle
whistling of the wind in the trees.
Next, he recited his “Morning Rhyme”:
 The first thing was to be in the here and now as much as he possibly could
without a whole lot of thinking about it. (This was easy enough for a Bear of
very little brain.)
The second thing was to be as kind as he possibly could toward everyone,
including himself. (This was easy enough for a Bear of very big heart.)

It’s not hard to be me, thought Pooh. Just be Here and Now, and be Kind.

Every morning, when we wake up, we have twenty-four brand new hours to live. What a precious
gift! We have the capacity to live in a way that these twenty-four hours will bring peace, joy, and
happiness to ourselves and others.

—from Peace Is Every Step

by Thich Nhat Hanh

Wake Up Your Body

To start your morning routine, sit upright in bed, or on the edge of the bed with your feet on the floor.
Take a full breath in through your nose, hold it for a moment, then exhale through both the nose and
mouth until your breath is all the way out. You can gently pull in your belly to help push your breath all the
way out. Do that three times.
If you’d like, imagine that with each exhalation you’re releasing a negative feeling or emotion, such as
anger, greed, envy, pride, or stubbornness.

[Please note: persons with respiratory issues should consult a health professional before doing any
breathing exercise.]

Wake Up to Your Environment

Open your eyes wide to your full field of vision—side to side and up and down. Notice all the colors,
shapes, and shades of light and dark you can see, without judgment, preference, or commentary.
In the same way, tune into your hearing, opening your awareness to sounds from all directions, near and
far. Notice all the loud or soft, high or low, and sharp or dull sounds you may hear.
Experience what you’re feeling, such as the firmness of the mattress you’re sitting on, the soft carpet or
hard wood of the floor under your feet, the texture of the sheet or blanket under your hands.

Set Your Intentions for the Day

First, establish the intention to be as mindful of your body as you can—to notice how you move, how you
feel, and what you experience through your senses; and to be kind in your actions.
Second, establish the intention to be as mindful of your speech as you can—to notice the words you use,
and the tone and volume with which you express them; and to maintain positive self-talk and helpful
communication with others. Intend to refrain from complaints about or put-downs of others and yourself;
and to be kind in your speech.
and to be kind in your speech.
Third, establish the intention to be as mindful of your thoughts and state of mind as you can—to notice
your experience as it unfolds without analysis or commentary; and to come back to what’s happening in the
here and now when you wander into daydreams of past and future. Intend to be kind in your thoughts and
attitudes.
Overall, as best you can, be aware of how much you are keeping to or straying from these three
intentions throughout the day. The more mindful and kind you are, the better your day will be.
Pooh climbed out of bed, which always helped him get his day going. He
practiced being in the here and now every morning by tidying up as mindfully as
he could, without thinking about anything else.
When he made the bed, he just made the bed.
When he got dressed, he just got dressed.
When he opened the curtains, he just opened them.
All of a sudden, some leaves whooshed in through the window. Pooh took
out a broom and started to sweep. Although his sweeping began mindfully, his
thoughts drifted back to the time that he and Piglet had jumped into the crunchy
autumn leaves in Rabbit’s garden. The leaves had flown everywhere! Rabbit got
a bit cross, so Pooh and Piglet swept the leaves back into a pile.

At that moment, Pooh woke up from his daydream. He noticed that he had
been sweeping the same spot over and over again! Oh dear, thought Pooh, my
mind was in the past in Rabbit’s garden, while my sweeping was here and now!
But it’s okay, no need to fret. Now my mind is back to here.
You see, anytime he noticed he had strayed from being in the present, he
simply recited his “Reminding Rhyme”:
 And he went back to sweeping.
Hearing a little rumble from his tummy, Pooh thought that a smackerel of
something would quiet things down. He dipped his paw into some sweet golden
honey and licked it all off. Ohhhh! Mmmm! So yummy! (When Pooh ate honey,
he did not have to remind himself to just eat.)
Then Pooh was finished. He looked around and smiled. Everything was tidy,
and his rumbly tummy was quiet. He felt satisfied knowing that he had done his
best job of being here and now, and being kind to himself.
With a cheery little hum, Pooh opened the door and stepped outside.

Two Zen students were telling each other about their teachers.
“My teacher is a great master who does great things. With three strokes of his sword, he can cut an
apple off a tree and slice it into quarters before it hits the ground. He can shoot an arrow into the center of
a target, then split that arrow with a second one.”
The other student said, “That’s pretty good, but my teacher is a really amazing master who does really
amazing things.”
“What can he do?” asked the first.
“When my teacher walks, he just walks. When he sits, he just sits. When he eats, he just eats.”

—Zen Story

Mindfulness in Action
Practice mindfulness in action by moving slowly enough to notice details of your experience: movements,
perceptions, and sensations. It’s often helpful for beginners to mentally label what’s being experienced. For
example, when drinking a glass of water, you can think “grasping the glass, it feels cool and smooth…
lifting to my mouth, drinking water, it feels quenching…setting the glass down, letting it go.”
When you wash your face, notice how you move your hands, feel the wetness and warmth of the water,
the smell and slipperiness of the soap, the softness of the towel.
As you brush your teeth, notice the movement of your hand and wrist, feel the rub of the bristles on
your gums, taste the flavor and smell the scent of the toothpaste.
When you get dressed, notice how you move your arms and legs, the feel of cloth against your skin, the
colors of what you’re wearing.
As you tidy up the bedroom, notice the weight and texture of the bedding as you lift and place it, how
you reach to hang up clothes from the night before, the feel and sound when you pull the curtains open, the
sights you see outside your window.
When you make and eat your breakfast, notice how you move through the kitchen, the smells and
flavors of the food, how you hold your utensils, how you chew and swallow.
As you clean the kitchen, feel the water and sponge, smell the soap, listen to the sounds of plates and
flatware clattering, notice how you open and close the refrigerator and cabinet doors.
flatware clattering, notice how you open and close the refrigerator and cabinet doors.

Carrying on Through the Day

When you are done with your morning preparations, establish your intention to continue mindfulness in
action throughout the day.
Picture situations in which you might find yourself. Mark times in your daily schedule to take short
breaks. Do some Grounding practice to set your mindfulness foundation, then take a few breaths to
establish your here and now reference point, and make a commitment to kindness before engaging with
others.
Then, carry on!
As he stepped outside, Pooh felt the soft, moist moss under his feet.
He smelled the rich sweetness of the honeysuckle (his favorite flower, of
course) on the climbing vines curling around the tree.
Licking his lips, he lapped up a missed drop of luscious honey.
He heard the birds singing and the wind whistling. (Or were the birds
whistling and the wind singing?)
Pooh noticed that he could see the forest for the trees (no matter what anyone
says). Here were the trees, bushes, hills, dales, creeks, and ponds that made up
the Hundred-Acre Wood.
Now it was time for his daily exercises. Pooh raised his chubby little arms
high up in the air, or at least as high as they would go. He could feel the pull
along his arms and shoulders and sides.
Then he bent over to touch his toes—or at least as far as he could reach down
to them. He could feel the stretch in the back of his legs.
He did each movement exactly seven times—not six (since that wouldn’t be
enough), nor eight (since he could only count to seven).
Then he walked slowly and mindfully to the big log in front of his house, his
Not-Thinking Spot.
Pooh settled his bottom onto the log at a smooth curvy place that fit just
right. He sat up straight so he could take nice, full breaths. Pooh drew the air into
his nose; it was cool and dry, and it filled him up. Upon breathing out, it felt
warm and moist. The rhythm of his breath—filling and then emptying—lulled
him into a comfortable calm.
Pooh could feel his tummy get bigger and smaller as he breathed in and out.
He let his mind rest there, feeling the weight of his body, as if he were sinking
into the log. Deeply grounded and firmly centered in his Not-Thinking Spot,
Pooh felt at peace.
 Pooh brought to mind one of his favorite sayings:

This helped him to stay in the here and now more of the time. And it helped
Pooh to notice more quickly when he wandered into the past or future, so he
could come back to the present.
Now Pooh was ready to start his practice of counting breaths, to help him be
better at paying attention and alerting him to when he was not. He counted in-
and-out one, in-and-out two, in-and-out three, and so on. Since Pooh couldn’t
count past seven, whenever he got there (besides being quite proud that he did),
he simply started over again.
Every now and then he’d get whisked away into a parade of thoughts. When
he realized he’d been daydreaming, he didn’t get upset. He just noticed he had
wandered into the past or future; matter-of-factly thought, Bother, got a bit
muddled there; and returned to awareness of his breathing in the here and now.
After appreciating his environment, doing exercises, and practicing
mindfulness of breathing, Pooh knew that his body and mind were as ready as
they could be for whatever adventures the day might bring.
 Stop, sit down, and become aware of your breathing. Let go into full acceptance of the present
moment. Don’t try to change anything at all, just breathe and let go. In your mind and in your heart,
give yourself permission to allow this moment to be exactly as it is, and allow yourself to be exactly
as you are.

—from Wherever You Go, There You Are

by Jon Kabat-Zinn

Plan a set amount of time for each part of your session. Start with shorter periods, and make them longer as
you become more accustomed to the practices. It’s helpful to set a timer so you don’t need to look at a clock
to check the time.

Energetic Movement
To start your practice session, it’s good to do some stretching and movement (not too extreme) like gentle
yoga, tai chi, or other similar disciplines. You can softly move in ways that activate the flow from your core
throughout your body. Make gentle circles with your hips, shoulders, and arms; then do the same with each
leg, knee, and foot.
Please be careful. You want to feel the stretch, but be sure to know your edge—the point where you
need to pull back a bit. Don’t hurt yourself!
While engaging in your bodywork, do your best to maintain mindfulness of how you are moving and
the sensations you are feeling, as well as your breathing.

Mindfulness of Body
Sit upright, but not rigid. Gently close your eyes. Let any tension, other than what you need to hold your
posture, flow down and out of your body.
Let your awareness drop gently into the deep core of your torso, like a leaf settling slowly down to the
bottom of a clear pond. Feel how your breathing slows and deepens.
As each breath goes out, imagine that you feel more and more like you are merging with the earth.
That’s as grounded as you can be.

Mindfulness of Breathing
Gently open your eyes, looking slightly downward without tilting your head forward. Focus your attention
on your posture and the sensations of your breathing. Feel that your torso is filling with air as you breathe in
and then emptying as you breathe out.
When you realize that your mind has drifted into a series of thoughts like a daydream, just acknowledge
it and return your attention to your posture and breathing, without judging or criticizing yourself for
becoming distracted.
To help you maintain focus, you can also count your breaths. A traditional practice is to mentally count
at the end of each out-breath: in-and-out one, in-and-out two, in-and-out three, and so on. As Pooh did,
count to seven, then begin again at one. As you progress in your practice, try counting to a higher number.
To sharpen your attention further, you can count backwards.
Another version of the counting practice includes labeling. With each breath, think: in one, out here; in
two, out now; in three, out here; in four, out now; and so on.
Again, for any of these methods, if you drift into a daydream and lose track of your count, just start
over.
Conclude each session of mindfulness practice with an aspiration. In your own words, affirm that you
will be as mindful as possible throughout the rest of the day or evening. You can also aspire that your
practice will benefit both yourself and others, which leads you to the kindness practice presented in the next
practice will benefit both yourself and others, which leads you to the kindness practice presented in the next
chapter.

[Please note: persons with any physical and/or respiratory issues should consult a health professional
before doing any movement or breathing exercises.]
After his mindfulness practice, Pooh liked to do his Caring-kindness practice, to
help remember and strengthen his intention to be kind to himself and others.
First, he thought about himself: I’m a bear that may have very little brain,
but I do have a very big heart. Piglet is my best friend, and best friends care
about each other, and are kind to each other. Since I want to be a good friend,
first I need to be a friend to myself—remembering my good qualities, forgiving
the not-so-good, and encouraging myself to be the best I can be.
Pooh remembered when he got distracted during a chat with Owl. He was
thinking so much about honey that he didn’t hear a word of what his friend had
to say! He forgave himself and thought, I’ll do my best to be-a-better-bear next
time.
On the good side, Pooh noted, I do think of my friends quite a bit. I feel glad
when they’re happy, and sad when they’re not. I try to cheer them up and
encourage them.
Then he thought about the good qualities of his best friend Piglet and
everyone he cared about: Piglet is very giving and loyal, Kanga is loving and
nurturing, and Roo is sweet and cheerful. Rabbit is clever and hardworking, and
Owl is wise and helpful. Eeyore is polite and humble, and even Tigger is well-
meaning and energetic. Of course, Christopher Robin has many good qualities,
the best of which is how much he loves me!
Pooh imagined taking away the unhappiness any of his friends might be
feeling, and sending to them all the happiness they deserve.
Finally, Pooh even included everyone he didn’t know (but certainly would
care about if he did). For all of them, he imagined taking and sending in the
same way.
After practicing a few minutes of taking unhappiness and sending happiness,
he established his intention to act this way all day, by reciting his “Caring-
kindness Poem”:
 Pooh knew that being kind to himself would help ensure that he could be
kind to others. And even if he didn’t do things perfectly, he would accept his
shortcomings and forgive himself. Whenever he could, he imagined taking away
any unhappiness from himself and others, and extending the wish for happiness
to his friends and all creatures large and small.

As we practice, we make friends with our fears, our grasping, and our aversion. Unconditional good
heart toward others is not even a possibility unless we attend to our own demons. Everything we
encounter thus becomes an opportunity for practicing loving-kindness.

—from The Places That Scare You

by Pema Chödrön

Without an accepting and kind attitude toward ourselves, it’s difficult to be caring and compassionate for
others. In general, we give ourselves a hard time, and have a hard time giving ourselves a break. When you
make a mistake, instead of being negative toward yourself, make the positive choice to be kind. Making
friends with yourself makes you more available for friendship with others.

Caring-kindness Practice for Yourself

Begin by sitting comfortably, in a good upright posture. Good posture makes it easier to breathe fully and
stay attentive. Gently close your eyes and relax any tension you’re feeling.
Move your awareness to the center of your body at heart level. Say to yourself, My nature is goodness,
and I deserve peace and happiness.
Tune in to any negative feelings toward yourself—anger, sadness, shame, and so on. Notice how and
where you experience them in your body.
Like an air conditioner turns hot air into a cool breeze, imagine that, as you breathe in, the negative
emotions are gathered and transformed into peace and contentment.
As you breathe out, radiate that peace and happiness from your heart to all areas of your body.
Repeat this sequence for a few minutes.

Caring-kindness Practice for Others

Imagine that, as you breathe in, you gather all the unhappiness of your friends and family into you. Their
suffering transforms into peace and contentment.
As you breathe out, radiate that peace and happiness from your heart to all your friends and family.
Then, as much as you can, expand the extent of your gathering and radiating to a wider circle of beings
—those you know and don’t know, and even those you find difficult.
Conclude each session of Caring-kindness practice by reciting a compassionate aspiration, such as this
verse from the Mindful Compassion tradition:
verse from the Mindful Compassion tradition:

May all and every one of us have Happiness.

May all and every one of us be free from Suffering.
May all and every one of us have Peace and Calm.
May all and every one of us give and receive Love.
Whenever Pooh got up from the Not-Thinking Spot, he liked to spend the next
little while taking a Walk in the Wood. He did it in a way that he called Aimless
Wandering. It meant walking to nowhere in particular, with no aim of getting
somewhere. He’d let his feet lead him, instead of listening to his thinking brain.
Another part of Aimless Wandering is what Pooh called Just Noticing. That
meant simply being aware of what’s going on, without going on and on about it.

As he got ready to walk, Pooh saw two paths heading into the Wood. He
wondered, Which one should I take?
Pooh started to feel a bit of strain on his brain, but then he remembered that
there was no need for choosing in Aimless Wandering—no right or wrong way
to go. What a relief!
So, he recited his “Aimless Wandering Poem”:
 As he wandered, he’d let his senses take in everything in the here and now.
He’d see what there is to see, hear what there is to hear, smell what there is to
smell, and feel what there is to feel. Of course, if some honey should happen to
appear on the way to nowhere in particular, he’d taste what there is to taste. All
this would be done without thinking too much about any of it.
Pooh let his feet pick the path and just noticed, with wonder and curiosity,
where they took him. This way, every moment held a new surprise. And Pooh
loved surprises.
He let all the sights and sounds and smells of the forest wash over him like a
soft rain shower: the brilliant rainbow of colors; so many curious and captivating
sounds; the delightfully intoxicating bouquet of smells; the soft moss underfoot,
cool and calming; the autumn breeze, crisp and refreshing.
As Pooh walked, thoughts sometimes popped into his mind, but he just
noticed them, too, and let them go. Aimless Wandering included his mind being
aimless as well. That meant not judging or going on and on about what he was
sensing. And not letting his thinking brain start choosing where to go next.
Now and then one of those choosing thoughts would show up. Wouldn’t it be
nice to head over to the big tree where I saw a beehive the other day, to see if I
can get some honey? Wouldn’t it be good to visit with Piglet? Wouldn’t it be fun
to see if Tigger and Roo want to play a game of Pooh Sticks?
As soon as he felt that his thinking brain was taking charge, trying to get him
to get somewhere, it helped to recite his “Aimless Wandering Poem” again.
Then he would just go back to walking to nowhere in particular.
You see, when Pooh relaxed and settled into Aimless Wandering, he
experienced everything more vividly. Not needing things to come out a
particular way, he saw everything revealed in its own natural beauty.
 If we’re really engaged in mindfulness while walking, we will consider the act of each step we take
as an infinite wonder, and a joy will open our hearts like a flower, enabling us to enter the world of
reality, a miraculous and mysterious reality.

—from The Miracle of Mindfulness

by Thich Nhat Hanh

Before beginning your Aimless Wandering practice, do a few minutes of grounding and mindful breathing
practice.
An important part of Aimless Wandering is Just Noticing: the practice of observing impartially and
without overlaying thoughts, whatever appears to any of your senses.
Aimless Wandering and Just Noticing require you to move your mind into the role of an observer. It can
feel awkward and difficult at first, because we are so used to functioning as a director. It feels strange to
take a back seat.
Pay particular attention to how thoughts appear. Do they come and go, leaving no trace, like a bird
flying across the sky? Or do they take hold of your awareness, replacing your sense perception with a
daydream?
In the course of Aimless Wandering, thoughts will come up that try to direct you one way or another. It
is actually part of the practice to recognize those thoughts and the impulse to get somewhere.
Sometimes when you simply follow where your body leads, a slight feeling of panic sets in, a fear that
you are not in control. After a few sessions, you’ll get more comfortable with letting go and being more
curious than afraid of where you’ll wander and what you’ll experience.
To do your Aimless Wandering, find an area to walk. It could be a park, a garden, a field of
wildflowers, or even someplace like the Hundred-Acre Wood. It’s best if you can avoid running into others
who might engage you in conversation.
Set an amount of time to do your practice. If you have an alarm on your watch or phone, it will help, so
that you don’t have to keep checking the time. Naturally, you’ll want your phone to be silent.
Start by standing up straight and taking a nice full breath. As you exhale, look around and notice all the
aspects of your environment. Then adopt an attitude of curiosity as you take your first step. Be aware of any
thoughts as they arise, letting them come and go. Be open to all your sense perceptions, with a minimum of
mental commentary or judgment. Keep walking, just noticing where your body is taking you. You’ll enjoy
the peacefulness of being an interested observer, without the stress of having to get somewhere.
As his Aimless Wandering took Pooh into a clearing, Roo appeared from the
other side.
“Hello, Pooh,” said Roo.
“Hello, Roo,” said Pooh.
“What are you doing?” asked Roo.
Pooh said, “It’s actually more like what I’m not doing.
I call it Aimless Wandering.”
“What’s that?” asked Roo.
Pooh said, “It means going nowhere in particular.”
“Well that’s where I’m always going,” said Roo.
“And just noticing whatever I find in the here and now,” added Pooh,
“without thinking on and on about it.”
“Me too, me too!” squeaked Roo. “That sounds like what I already do, every
day!”
“Or what you don’t do,” said Pooh.
“It’s both!” Roo exclaimed. “I call it play.”
“My Aimless Wandering ran into you, so that’s Aimless Meeting. Why don’t
we do Not Doing together?” suggested Pooh.
“Yes,” agreed Roo. “Let’s play together.”
And off they went hand in hand to nowhere in particular, just noticing what
they found with curiosity and wonder.
“You know,” said Pooh, “when I am just noticing, I feel like everything is
new.”
“Me too, me too!” cried Roo. “But then, to me most everything is new,
’cause I’m kinda new myself.”
“I suppose,” said Pooh, “just noticing gives me new eyes and new ears.”
And some words circled around in Pooh’s mind, organizing themselves into
a “Newness Poem”:

As they came around a big tree, a flock of birds took off and made patterns
 As they came around a big tree, a flock of birds took off and made patterns
in the sky. They all moved together so precisely that they seemed to be
connected. It was like a banner billowing this way and that in the wind. “Oooh!
Oooh!” exclaimed Roo. “Look! How beautiful!”
Pooh looked up. “Oh, my! They’re dancing in the sky.”
Walking on, they passed a little brook, bubbling along over the rocks. The
sound was like a soothing melody. “Ahhh,” said Pooh. “Listen! How lovely!”
“Mmmm,” answered Roo. “I hear it humming a little song.”
The two watched as silver-winged dragonflies, shimmering in the sun, sailed
across the water’s surface. A few came to land on the dark moss that carpeted
either side of the brook.
A small clump of mud suddenly came to life, hopping after a dragonfly. Roo
pointed to it gleefully, watching as it hopscotched down the stream. It was a tiny,
brown-and-green frog that had come out to play.
A brisk breeze came up and blew the treetops back and forth. “And now the
trees are swaying to the melody!” Pooh marveled.
Two leaves were blown from a branch at the same time. “Look,” said Pooh,
“they’re in a race to see who can get to the ground first.”
 “I like the red one,” announced Roo.
“I’ll take the brown one,” offered Pooh. “Let’s see which one wins!”
“Go, Red, get ahead!” squeaked Roo.
“Now, Brown, hurry down!” urged Pooh.
The leaves floated and darted, one racing on, then pausing for the other to
catch up, until they landed—at exactly the same time. “Oh!” and “Ah!” Roo and
Pooh shouted together. “It’s a tie!”
As they wandered on, it seemed to Pooh that when he could be more like
Roo, the Wood was continually performing for him. It was all part of a curiously
magical, delightfully surprising, and wonderfully joyful display. How much
better when everything you experience feels new! It is the ordinary magic of
seeing sights and hearing sounds with new eyes, new ears, and an open heart.

I stood on the bridge overlooking the creek. It was a beautiful fall day. The leaves on the trees were
all vibrating and alive, and I could see energy coursing through everything. Zen Master Suzuki
Roshi came by, looked in my eyes, and said, “Stay exactly like that. When you see one leaf falling,
you may say, ‘Oh, autumn is here!’ One leaf is not just one leaf; it means the whole autumn.”

—from Zen Is Right Here

David Chadwick, Editor Seeing
See your broadest field of vision, as if you were looking at a landscape and your eyes were wide-angle
lenses. Look at the display of colors, shapes, and shades of light and dark. Can you see the patterns in a
flock of birds passing by, or in the shapes of the clouds? Then focus on details, the intricacies of a leaf or
flower, the colors and movements of an insect, the grains of sand or clumps of clay in the soil. Does
everything you see create an interwoven tapestry of visual experience?

Hearing
Listen carefully for all the varieties of sound. They may range from high and shrill to deep and low; from so
loud it’s all you can hear, to so soft it’s barely audible. How far away are the sounds? Are there echoes?
Listen to birds and animals for all the different notes. Are they melodies? Do they just repeat, or subtly
change each time? Does everything you hear create a symphonic performance?

Magic
Roo’s childlike quality opens Pooh up to the magic of the natural world. Roo already sees everything that
way. A flock of birds is a banner floating in the wind. It’s not that you make an unmagical world suddenly
way. A flock of birds is a banner floating in the wind. It’s not that you make an unmagical world suddenly
magical. You’re not pretending—it exists naturally. Whatever appears can be greeted with a sense of
wonder, as if experiencing it for the very first time.
Thoughts such as “I like this but not that,” or “I want one of these and not one of those,” are not
childlike, but childish: a self-involved, self-centered reality. When we judge something, we are separate
from it. We’re over here; what we’re thinking about is over there. However, when we’re truly childlike, we
go beyond a sense of separation. We feel totally absorbed in the naturally magical display.
It isn’t just air moving the trees—we start to see the trees dancing with the wind. The birds aren’t just
cawing and cooing and squawking—they’re singing and chatting and arguing with each other. The brook
isn’t just water currents—it’s babbling and humming while running and jumping around and over rocks and
sticks. Clouds gather themselves into familiar shapes, like shadow puppets on the wall formed by the hands
of magicians. Those are the alive qualities of the magical natural world. And we can wake up to realize that
we are part of it and it is part of us.
Now it was time for Roo to go home, so Pooh hugged his little friend and
watched as Roo skipped off, singing and laughing as he went.
Pooh meandered along, again letting his senses open up to everything in the
Wood. It made him feel very peaceful and calm. He decided to let his senses
guide his choices of where to go next. Whatever he noticed that tickled him (in a
pleasing way, not like a poke in the tummy), he explored more deeply.
He saw a bright blue and yellow butterfly flutter by, so he followed it along
the path. When it suddenly flew off in a different direction, he found himself
among a stand of towering trees. The branches bent this way and that, as if they
changed their mind every so often as they grew. The leaves hanging down were
like lots of little paws or claws reaching out toward him. The different kinds of
bark on the tree trunks beckoned him to touch them. Pooh rubbed his paw
against one. It felt craggy and scratchy.
This reminded him of the time he had to scratch an itch on his back that he
couldn’t quite reach. He’d looked around for something to rub up against, and
found a tree with particularly rough bark. “Aaahhh, ooohhh, mmmm,” Pooh had
sighed in relief.
Just then, an acorn dropped and hit him on the head. It woke him from his
daydream. He realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts, and hadn’t been seeing
or hearing or smelling so clearly.
But he didn’t feel bad about it. He just made a point of recognizing that he
had drifted into the past, and came back to his Aimless Wandering in the here
and now. I do better when I turn my thinking brain off, so I can turn my Just
Noticing on, thought Pooh.
 Soon, Pooh came upon a buzzing beehive. He mused on how lovely it would
be to fill his tummy (he had heard a little rumble). His mind jumped to the
future, thinking, Would the bees be upset? All I have to do is touch the hive to
find out. Except that wouldn’t be so kind to them. But how else can I get some
honey?
The bzzz, bzzz, bzzz of the bees brought Pooh back to the here and now. He
decided to just listen to the sound and watch them fly in circles around the hive.
Being open to what might appear, he noticed (to his delight) a tiny crack at the
bottom of the hive,

oozing

little

drops

of
lovely

golden

honey.
 honey.

Cupping his paws underneath, Pooh patiently collected the honey. He sniffed
the sweet smell as he brought his paws to his lips. Slowly and attentively, Pooh
savored one delicious bit at a time. He licked his sticky paws until they weren’t,
and all the honey was in his tummy.
Pooh was especially pleased that he could enjoy the honey without
struggling so hard to get it. He thought of a special version of his “Caring-
kindness Poem” for the occasion:

By not disturbing the bees or breaking open the hive, he fulfilled his purpose
of being kind. And somehow that made this honey taste even sweeter!

You can experience a vast realm of perceptions unfolding, so many perceptions that they are beyond
imagination. There are sounds that you have never heard. There are sights and colors that you have
never seen. There are feelings that you have never experienced before. There are endless fields of
perception.

—from Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior

by Chögyam Trungpa

Guided by Sense Perceptions

Another approach to Aimless Wandering is to let your senses guide you. Let yourself become immersed in
your perceptions of nature. Go deeper by exploring each sense in turn. Noticing a patch of color, you take a
closer look. Hearing the sound of a stream or a particularly captivating birdcall, you turn or move closer to
listen. You touch sticks and stones, moss and dirt, bark and leaves. You stop to smell an aromatic tree or
fragrant flower.
Whether going along aimlessly or following your senses, or even while on your way somewhere, let
yourself experience the magic of the present moment, appreciating perceptions and then letting go as you
yourself experience the magic of the present moment, appreciating perceptions and then letting go as you
move on.

Feeling
Stand, sit, or lie in your garden, in a forest, in the park, or at the beach. (You may want to bring a thin
blanket or yoga mat with you if the ground is too damp or cold.) Bring your awareness to the parts of your
body that are in contact with the ground. Can you feel the earth supporting you? Can you relax and let
yourself sink in and be part of it?
Feel the air on the skin of your face and hands. Feel your body moving as your breath flows in and out.
Can you feel your heart beating in your chest, or your pulse in your fingertips, wrists, or neck?

Tasting
You might not want to try to get honey from a beehive as Pooh did, so bring some food with you to practice
tasting (also, it’s a good idea to have nourishment if you’re on a long walk). You can carry a trail mix that
includes raisins, nuts (or granola if you’re allergic), and chocolate chips. Can you taste the saltiness of the
nuts? Notice how the sweetness of the chocolate appears more vividly when it melts, and how the raisins
release their flavor only when you bite into them.

[Important note: if you are an experienced hiker, you may be tempted to taste leaves like mint, or fruit like
raspberries. Please be careful to only taste what you’re sure you know. Berries can look delicious but be
quite poisonous, especially smooth bright red ones. Leaves from the oleander bush are poisonous, too.
Please don’t try mushrooms, even if you think you know them! In the same way, please be careful to identify
and avoid touching plants like poison ivy, oak, or sumac.]
Thinking about being kind brought Piglet to Pooh’s mind. And since he had
promised to visit him around midmorning, off he went toward Piglet’s house.
Although he was now going somewhere in particular, he could still practice Just
Noticing on the way.
He heard a “Cheep! Cheep!” sound on one side of the path. There, in a nest
of leaves and twigs, a mother bluebird fed three hungry babies.
Pooh turned when he heard the scritch-scratching sound of two squirrels
playing a spirited game of Chase, scurrying up, down, and around a tall oak tree.
On he went, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the Wood.
Piglet was waiting outside as Pooh arrived. Whenever the two met, they
liked to play the Welcome Game of Here and Now: “What time is it?” asked
Pooh.
“It’s now,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favorite time,” said Pooh.
“And where are we?” asked Pooh.
“We’re here,” squealed Piglet.
“My favorite place,” said Pooh.
“What are you doing today?” asked Piglet.
“It’s more like what I’m not doing,” Pooh answered.
“Oh, I see,” said Piglet (although he didn’t really). “Then what are you not
doing today?”
“I’m Aimless Wandering,” he said, “just noticing what’s here and now as I
go on the way to nowhere in particular. Care to join me?”
“Oh, dear!” said Piglet. “You know how hard it is for me to try new things.
I’m certain I wouldn’t get it right. I’d better let you do the Aimless Wandering
for both of us, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Pooh said, “You feel like it’s hard to try. But it isn’t so hard to not try. And
that’s what just noticing is. And you’re certain that you won’t do it the right
way. But there is no getting Aimless Wandering wrong since there isn’t any right
or wrong way to go.”
“But what if I can’t just notice?” Piglet fretted.
“No need to worry,” said Pooh encouragingly. “You have eyes and ears and
nose and such, and that’s all you need to just notice. If you get a bit muddled in
nose and such, and that’s all you need to just notice. If you get a bit muddled in
thoughts, seeing, hearing, smelling, or feeling will wake you up.”
“But what if I forget to be here and now?” worried Piglet.
“No need to fret,” said Pooh reassuringly. “It happens to everyone. Once in a
while your thoughts may carry you away to ‘there and then,’ or to ‘where and
when,’ but your heart is always Here and Now.
“So, Piglet, you have everything already inside you—all that you need to just
notice, to be here and now, as we wander aimlessly along.”
And Pooh made up a little “Encouraging Poem” on the spot:

“Well, Pooh,” agreed Piglet, “if you believe in me, then maybe I can, too.”

Just then, Piglet

stood a little

straighter and

held his head

a little higher.

“I feel more confident already. Thanks, Pooh. You are a very good best
friend, indeed.”

Confidence is an attitude that makes the seemingly unworkable workable. This doesn’t mean that all
 of a sudden everything is going to go our way. But it does mean that we believe we have the
resources to live in the challenge. That is the expression of courage.

—from Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior

by Chögyam Trungpa Building Your Practice
How can a mouse eat an elephant? One bite at a time. So, start small. But do start.
Practice one minute of mindfulness for one day, then two minutes for two days, three minutes for three
days, and so on.
Once you have done ten-minute sessions for ten days, add a second session later in the day. Build your
second session one minute at a time as you did the first, until you are doing both sessions for ten minutes
each day.
You can extend your sessions further if you’d like. It’s good to break up longer sessions with a few
minutes of walking mindfulness between every twenty minutes of sitting.

Walking Mindfulness
In walking mindfulness, you still maintain a nice upright posture. However, instead of noticing the breath
going in and out, focus your attention on the sensations of your legs swinging and the placing of your feet
as you walk.
When you realize that your mind has wandered into a flight of thoughts, just think, Back to here and
now. Return to focus on your posture and the movement of your legs and feet, without judging or criticizing
yourself for becoming distracted.

Continuing Your Practice

Mindfulness practice shouldn’t be thought of as something you do on an “as needed” basis, like taking an
aspirin if you get a headache. It’s better to regard it more like brushing your teeth, something you do
regularly, a couple of times a day.
So, it’s important to establish an intention to be as steady as you can about practicing. Please be kind to
yourself, not negatively judgmental, if you need to change your practice time, or even miss a day. Think of
it as trying to be consistent without being rigid.
It’s helpful to set yourself up in a place that’s relatively quiet, where you won’t be disturbed for the
length of your session.
Choosing a particular time of day to practice is also helpful. First thing in the morning is a good time to
schedule a session. Sitting yourself down before doing anything else is much easier, especially for
beginners, than stopping your activities midday. It also sets a good tone of mindfulness for the day,
encouraging you to be as fully present as you can during your various daily activities.
Piglet proudly announced, “I’m ready now, Pooh, to do some Aimless
Wandering and Just Noticing. How do we start?”
“We start at the beginning, which is where we are,” said Pooh. “Sometimes
we think about the past and the future, but the earth is always here and now. So,
we need to get grounded in our bodies by feeling the earth under us.”
A little beyond Piglet’s front door, Pooh noticed a patch of moss. “Let’s lie
down and do some Grounding practice,” suggested Pooh.

Pooh continued, “Just let yourself sink in. Let yourself be as heavy as you
can be. Feel like you are part of the earth, and the earth is part of you. Then
you’re not very little Piglet on great big Earth. You, Piglet, are as big as the
world.”
Then Pooh sat up and said, “Now let’s count each breath—in-and-out one,
in-and-out two—for a few minutes, to help us be better at paying attention, and
noticing when we’re not.”
Soon, Pooh wanted to try something else. “Now, close your eyes really tight
and put your hands over your ears. We’ll each count to three. Then we’ll open
our eyes and uncover our ears and pretend that we’ve never seen or heard
anything before.”
The two friends counted down together: “Three, two, one, now!” When they
looked and listened, the colors were brighter and the sounds were more vivid.
How amazing!
When they stood up to start Aimless Wandering, Piglet asked, “Which way
 When they stood up to start Aimless Wandering, Piglet asked, “Which way
shall we go?”
“In Aimless Wandering, we go nowhere in particular, so there isn’t a way we
should go. But since there are two of us, and we’d rather not wander too far
apart, let’s let our senses guide us,” explained Pooh.
“Should I follow you?” asked Piglet.
“Let’s take turns,” said Pooh. “And when one of us notices something, we
can point it out to the other.”
As they started walking, Pooh said, “Look, look!”
Then Piglet said, “Listen, listen!”
And on they went, dancing back and forth as the Wood revealed its natural
magic.
When they came to a stream, Pooh started to slosh alongside it. Piglet
followed, the cool mud squishing under his feet.
“What fun!” he squealed.
“Indeed!” Pooh agreed.
They followed the stream as its gentle current flowed over, under, and
around rocks of different shapes and sizes. A bright yellow leaf tossed and
turned as it floated along, flipping over and back again. Sometimes the water
swirled in little eddies; other times it ran straight ahead. At one point the stream
took a bit of a rest and flowed gently into a deep pool, giving passersby a chance
to visit when it wasn’t in such a hurry. Pooh and Piglet sat down on the bank and
dangled their feet in the clear, cool water.
After a while they stood up, shook the water off their feet, and started
walking again. Piglet noticed a patch of flowers—bushy purple lavender, wild
red roses, and springy yellow chamomile. He was captivated by the brilliant
colors and walked among them. Pooh followed, and they both leaned closer to
smell the blooms. The perfumes were intoxicating.
Piglet closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “These flowers are making me
feel the teensiest bit sleepy,” he told Pooh.
“Lavender, wild roses, and chamomile, I believe,” Pooh said. “It could be
their soothing quality that’s making us feel calm and relaxed, and perhaps just a
little lazy.”
“How lovely,” said Piglet.
“Indeed,” replied Pooh, and he composed a “Relaxation Poem”:
 And so Pooh and Piglet, feeling grounded and aware, practiced just noticing
as they let their senses lead them through the Wood. Immersed in sights, sounds,
sensations, and smells, and experiencing them all as if for the first time, they felt
renewed.

Forest Bathing, or Shinrin-yoku, is the Japanese practice of going to the forest to receive mental
and physical healing. When we walk through a forest, nature’s benevolence flows into us as
sunshine flows into trees. Beneath soaring pines and giant, spreading oaks, thoughts naturally
become expansive and harmonious. As you breathe in and out, be aware of how interconnected you
are with the forest, and of the reciprocal relationship all beings have with one another.

—from The Sky and Earth Touched Me

by Joseph Cornell

In the mindfulness tradition, the perceiving mind is likened to a monkey in a room with six windows. The
monkey can only look out one window at a time. In the same way, when a given sense perception is in the
foreground of your consciousness, it becomes your main experience. All the other senses go to the
background. We’re familiar with the five senses of sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch, so what is the sixth
window? It is the perception of our own thoughts. When thinking is in the foreground, all the other senses
go to the background. When thinking subsides, the other senses emerge more vividly.

Smelling
Like Pooh and Piglet, after doing some Grounding practice to settle your mind, explore your sense of smell.
Notice familiar and new fragrances. Do you recognize any herbs? What qualities do you smell: Fresh or
musty? Flowery or acrid? Minty, sweet, pungent, earthy, resinous?
Take a leaf or small piece of tree bark and crush it between your fingers. It may smell stronger. Is the
smell different in any other way?

[Important note: when walking in the forest, know the plants of your region, so you can avoid ones like
poison ivy, oak, or sumac. If in doubt, don’t touch!]

What smells do you find pleasing, neutral, or unpleasant? How do scents affect you? There is a field
called aromatherapy that talks about the positive effects of aromas from plant essences on our nervous
system, emotions, and overall health.
Deep in the forest, surrounded by trees, you can almost smell the oxygen they emit in exchange for the
carbon dioxide they absorb. Soaking in the healing atmosphere of the forest, bathing in a swirl of sense
carbon dioxide they absorb. Soaking in the healing atmosphere of the forest, bathing in a swirl of sense
perceptions, you’ll likely feel a profound peacefulness, a deep appreciation, and a natural gratitude for the
beauty of nature.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a loud, “Hellooo!”
A boisterous Tigger broke Pooh and Piglet’s peaceful concentration.
Piglet lost his balance and fell into the flowers. He stood up covered in petals
and pollen, sneezing and shaking with fright. Feeling completely unsettled, he
complained, “T-T-Tigger, why did you bounce me?”
“I didn’t!” said Tigger. “I just bounced by to say hello!”
“Well,” said Piglet, “somehow I got bounced out of what Pooh and I were
doing.”
“What were you doing?” asked Tigger.
“Go ahead, Pooh,” offered Piglet, not certain that he could answer in a way
Tigger could understand.
Pooh began, “It’s more like what we were not doing…”
“Tiggers are very good at not doing, they just choose not to not do,” Tigger
announced.
Pooh continued, “Well, first we were using our breathing to get grounded…”
“Tiggers are very good at that,” Tigger said, interrupting again.
“And using our senses to just notice the natural magic of the Wood around
us,” Pooh concluded.
“Just noticing is what Tiggers do best,” Tigger added.
“Beg pardon,” said Piglet. “But I don’t really see how you could be
grounded and bouncing at the same time. And how is it that you were just
noticing if you didn’t notice that you were bouncing into me?”
“Unfortunately, you happened to be in the way while I was just noticing
something else,” Tigger answered.
“Hmmm,” said Pooh thoughtfully. “You might find that taking a few
minutes to get truly grounded will let you feel the earth more. And that could
make you even better at bouncing.”
“Tiggers like to be better,” he replied.
“And if you’re thinking about where you just bounced, or where you’re
going to bounce,” Pooh pointed out, “you don’t notice where you’re bouncing
now. That’s why you bounced into Piglet.”
Then Pooh suggested, “Sit here with us for a bit. As you breathe, just notice
what you’re feeling.”
Tigger sat down and took one breath, then two, and—“I feel like bouncing!”
 Tigger sat down and took one breath, then two, and—“I feel like bouncing!”
he exclaimed.
“Well, of course you do,” said Pooh, “but that doesn’t mean you have to.”
“It doesn’t?”
“It’s more like you’re bouncing inside, without moving outside,” Pooh
explained. “You can just notice your thoughts and feelings bouncing around,
without them making you move. That way you are in charge of bouncing,
instead of bouncing being in charge of you.”
“Yes, that’s good. Tiggers like it best when they can bounce inside when
they want to, and bounce outside when they want to,” agreed Tigger.
“So, when you’re around Piglet, you can just bounce inside, and save your
outside bouncing for when you play with Roo,” said Pooh.
Tigger sat next to Pooh and Piglet by the flowers for a few minutes. “That
was inside bouncing,” he proclaimed. “And I think I heard Roo calling me, so
now it’s time to bounce outside with him. Thank you, Pooh! Be seeing you,
Piglet!”

And a much

happier Tigger

bounced off

through

the Wood.

Piglet said, “You were very kind to Tigger. But I really prefer the peace and
quiet before he arrived and after he left.”
Pooh replied, “Piglet, you did well learning to accept yourself for who you
 Pooh replied, “Piglet, you did well learning to accept yourself for who you
are. It’s also good to try to accept Tigger for who he is. He may be a bit scary to
you, but he isn’t trying to be.”
And wanting both his friends to be happy, Pooh’s thoughts gathered
themselves into an “Accepting Others Poem”:

A student respectfully requested instruction from a Zen master.

“My mind is very difficult to control,” he explained. “When I want some thoughts to go, they stay. When
I want others to stay, they go. How can I control my mind?”
The master replied, “The mind is like a high-spirited wild horse. If you try to control it by locking it up,
it will be agitated and restless.
“Take a bigger view of control. Within the big meadow of awareness, let the wild horse of your mind
run here and there. With nothing to struggle against, it will eventually settle down on its own.”

—Zen Story

You may sometimes feel that your thoughts are bouncing wildly to and fro, taking your attention with them.
It’s common for beginners to feel like they can’t do mindfulness practice because their minds are too busy.
They say things such as, “I tried it, but couldn’t sit still.” “Felt antsy, needed to move every second.”
“Couldn’t stop thinking.” “Couldn’t pay attention to my breath for more than a second; then I was off in
thoughts.”
One reason it’s hard to sit still is that we are so used to moving. We feel antsy because our minds are
used to being active. When we’re bored, all the itches and aches provide distracting entertainment.
Sometimes people say, “I tried sitting practice and I felt like it made my mind even busier, full of
thoughts.”
It’s not that you’re having more thoughts. You’re just more aware of how one follows another in quick
succession, and that they do so most of the time.
Mindfulness practice is not about stopping thoughts. Trying to stop thinking only invites more thoughts.
Instead, as thoughts arise, you simply let them come up and go by, neither inviting them to stay nor trying
to get rid of them. Noticing them is enough; there’s no need for analyzing or judging.
With this perspective, thoughts and feelings lose their power. Watching them come and go, and seeing
 With this perspective, thoughts and feelings lose their power. Watching them come and go, and seeing
them dissolve as easily as they arose, you have a choice about what you pay attention to and what you
disregard. By simply observing your thoughts and feelings, you can choose how to respond, rather than
impulsively react. Instead of being swept away by the waves of thoughts and feelings, you can ride their
energy.
In relating to others, the path is acceptance and not taking things personally. Most people are bouncing
along, so focused on where they want to end up that they don’t watch where they’re going or see who’s in
the way. Emotional reactions are much the same. People get so worked up about how they are feeling that
they often take it out on whomever they run into. It’s more about them than it is about you, but you may
happen to be in the way, like being run over by a runaway car with no one behind the wheel.
After Tigger left, Pooh had an idea. “Let’s go visit Eeyore,” he suggested, “and
we can take a different path to get there.”
“Why would we do that when we already know the way?” asked Piglet, a bit
concerned.
“We might discover something new,” answered Pooh.
“But we might get lost,” Piglet cautioned.
“Or we might not,” Pooh replied.
Piglet thought for a moment. “There is that…”
“And, we can decide to be more curious than afraid,” offered Pooh.
Pooh did not want to say it, but he thought that if they took a different route
to Eeyore’s house, they might run into some bees. And where there are bees,
there is sure to be honey. It wasn’t that Pooh was exactly looking for honey, but
he certainly wouldn’t mind if he happened to just notice some along the way.
Piglet thought about what it meant to be more curious than afraid. “You
know, Pooh, now that you mention it, I was quite brave when it came to
Wandering Aimlessly. And I do like surprises, as long as they’re not the
frightening kind. So, I suppose I could do with a little curiosity and adventure.
As long as we don’t get too adventurous, and what we find isn’t too curious.”
And off they went.
Along the path, Piglet heard a rustling in the bushes, and his imagination
took over. “Oh, dear,” he said in a trembling voice. “I think what we’re hearing
might be a fierce and terrible Woozle!” Piglet wanted to be fearless for Pooh, but
Woozles were another matter entirely.
“Why don’t we wait and listen and see what comes out?” Pooh suggested.
Which Piglet was more than willing to do if Pooh stood directly in front of him.
The two friends were surprised to hear a soft whimpering coming from the
bushes. It was not a very Woozle-ish sort of sound. This made Piglet less afraid.
As he drew closer, he was surprised to see a reddish-brown snout with a black
button nose poking out under a bush. Then he saw two little eyes and two little
ears and two little paws.
It was a baby fox!
 Piglet was about to ask Pooh what they should do with it, when he
remembered Pooh’s “Caring-kindness Poem”:

Then Piglet added:

Piglet decided that in order to be kind, he and Pooh should return the baby
fox to its home. Looking along the ground, Piglet found the nearly hidden
opening to the fox’s den. It was not that close, but not that far from the very bush
where they’d heard the rustling and whimpering.
Afterward, Piglet began to feel a reddish glow, which ran from his nose all
the way up to the tips of his ears. It warmed him on the inside and outside.
“Why, Pooh,” said Piglet. “I think I’m feeling the very feeling that comes
from being both fearless and kind.”

The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear.

Instead, just go forward with curiosity.

—from No Time to Lose

by Pema Chödrön Training in Fearlessness
The first step toward going beyond fear is acknowledging it. We can recognize our fears and learn to
respond rather than react to them. Mindfulness practice includes directing our awareness toward what we
fear. Within the space of inquisitive awareness, we gain insight into what’s behind our fears and can take a
more courageous attitude toward our experiences. As the old saying goes, “Life is like a turtle. You never
more courageous attitude toward our experiences. As the old saying goes, “Life is like a turtle. You never
get anywhere if you don’t stick your neck out.”

Intensify and Release

Once you’ve recognized your fears and put them in perspective, you still need to undo their physical effects.
Even after calming your mind, your body may still be unsettled. Intensify the feeling for several seconds,
making your muscles tighter and tighter—then suddenly release them. You can do this exercise on one area
of your body at a time: head and neck, shoulders and arms, hips and legs, upper torso, deep belly.
Afterward, take a little time to breathe fully and settle yourself completely.
When you conquer your own fears, you have a greater capacity to extend kindness to others and
encourage them to be more fearless as well.
Having left the baby fox at his den, a far more fearless Piglet and prouder Pooh
enjoyed the new route to Eeyore’s house. They went through a meadow with
brightly colored wildflowers that waved in the breeze. A new, fragrant smell
greeted them every step of the way. They marched on into the forest, where they
felt the pine needles crunching beneath their feet. From a branch high above
came the caws and cackles of two gossiping crows. They followed a narrow path
that zigzagged down a hillside. After pushing through some sad, scraggly-
looking bushes, they came upon Eeyore munching thistles.
“Hello, Eeyore,” said Pooh and Piglet.
“Hello, Pooh and little Piglet,” said Eeyore. “What brings you here? Must be
some mistake.”
“No,” Pooh explained. “We decided it was a good day to visit you.”
“Well, that’s very nice of you to say, now that you’re here,” replied Eeyore.
“But I’m sure this isn’t where you wanted to end up. Must’ve taken a wrong turn
somewhere. Sorry for the disappointment, but that’s just the way of it
sometimes.”
“No,” said Piglet. “We really did come to see you, Eeyore.”
“Well, there you have it. I’m always wrong.”
“We’re here to cheer you up!” Piglet offered.
“That’s a very kind thought, but not very realistic,” Eeyore objected. “I’m
always wrong, and things always turn out for the worst.”
“Maybe because you believe that,” said Pooh, “it’s more likely to happen.”
“I know. It always does. So why wouldn’t I believe it?” Eeyore pointed out.
“But if you’re always wrong, what if you’re wrong about that?” asked Pooh.
“Hmmm,” mused Eeyore. “Makes my head swim a bit, but…I guess that
means that I could be right about something. Well, that would be different.”
“Yes! It would!” cheered Piglet.
“But, of course, even if things did work out for me, I still wouldn’t be of
much use to anyone else,” lamented Eeyore.
“What if we could prove to you otherwise?” Pooh asked.
“You can try,” said Eeyore. “I wish you luck.”
“Let’s start right there,” Pooh began. “You’re always wishing everyone good
luck. You want the best for your friends and feel sorry when they’re
disappointed.”
Piglet thought for a moment and then joined in. “You always appreciate the
nice things we do for you. And you always say ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re
welcome.’ You’re very generous about sharing your thistles, too. And you
welcome.’ You’re very generous about sharing your thistles, too. And you
always ask after Kanga and Roo.”
“Hmmm,” said Eeyore thoughtfully. “You have a point there. Maybe I’m not
so hopeless after all. Thank you for cheering me up.”
Some rhyming words came to Pooh’s mind and fashioned themselves into a
“Cheering Up Poem” for Eeyore:

“A poem just for me?” queried Eeyore. “Well, you certainly needn’t have,
but it is much appreciated now that you did. Very kind of you, Pooh.”
Piglet felt good about helping Eeyore to see things in a new way (and about
spending time with a more cheerful Eeyore), so he decided to stay and keep him
company. Pooh was also pleased about their kindness making a difference, but
his tummy was now a bit rumbly again. So, hoping that Rabbit might offer him a
little something (as he did more often than not), Pooh headed off for his usual
midday visit.
 My life has been a series of terrible misfortunes, most of which never happened.

—Mark Twain

The ability to rest comfortably in the present moment, regardless of its imperfections, is the
foundation of all true happiness.

—from Real Happiness at Work

by Sharon Salzberg

If you’re so used to feeling bad, you might forget how to feel good. That presents a challenge to
overcoming negativity, and to changing habits and perspectives. The familiar, even if painful, is hard to let
go of when you don’t know how to be some other way. That’s why it’s good to start with small steps.
Working with mindfulness to overcome negative attitudes and believe in yourself is a journey, not a
quick fix. It is simple, but not easy. In the process, it’s important that you not reject or throw away qualities
of your personality, even ones you think you don’t like. Instead, find a way to use them to open up to a
bigger world.
Like Eeyore, some people don’t really know how to be anything but negative. They assume the worst,
and have a “why it won’t work” comeback for every suggestion. They are certain that nothing will make
any difference, so what’s the point in trying?
If all you hear from someone are complaints about how unworkable things are, you start to feel that
getting through to them is impossible. But there is a way to change their negative perspective.
The starting point is to reflect on what you’re sensing as you’re listening to them. If you are really
connected with the other person, you’ll be tuned in to what they’re feeling.
Ask yourself, “What am I experiencing right now?” The answer will probably be an attitude of
hopelessness, that there’s nothing that will make any difference.
That’s your connection to them. You can say, “Things seem kind of hopeless.” And they will start to
feel like you hear them; you get where they’re coming from.
Within that shared space of openness, you can express care for them and a belief in their basic goodness
as a person. And in their hearts, they’ll know that if someone cares about them, it means they’re worthy of
receiving care, of receiving love. They can acknowledge that it’s possible to believe in themselves and be
receiving care, of receiving love. They can acknowledge that it’s possible to believe in themselves and be
more confident about their lives.
As he made his way to Rabbit’s house, Pooh thought about him in a rhyming
sort of way:

Turning the corner,

Pooh saw

Rabbit’s head

sticking out,

looking

this way and that.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” said Rabbit. “It was getting past
lunchtime. It’s good you finally got here. Lots of plans, you know. Places to go,
things to do. So, come in, come in. Ready for a little something?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Pooh, squeezing through the door into Rabbit’s
house.
Rabbit scurried around, putting things out for lunch, and offering Pooh a
 Rabbit scurried around, putting things out for lunch, and offering Pooh a
chair.
“What have you been up to, Pooh?” asked Rabbit.
Pooh answered, “Aimless Wandering.”
“What’s that?” asked Rabbit.
“It’s taking a Walk in the Wood,” Pooh answered, “going nowhere in
particular.”
“Then how do you know when you’ve gotten there?”
“There isn’t any there to get to,” said Pooh. “Wherever you go, you find
yourself there. Which is always here.”
“Then what’s the point?” asked Rabbit.
“There isn’t any. The point is not to have a point.”
“I give up,” said Rabbit.
“Oh, good! That’s exactly the point.”
“Well then,” said Rabbit, “what are you doing while you’re Aimless
Wandering?” Rabbit couldn’t imagine just doing one thing at a time. In fact, just
then he was pouring milk with one hand while spreading honey on bread with
the other.
“It’s really not about doing, it’s more about being. You might find it
relaxing,” said Pooh. “I know I do.”
“Well, I don’t know about relaxing, but I’m willing to try it. Now how will I
know if I’m doing it right?” asked Rabbit.
“There isn’t any right. And it’s not about trying,” Pooh said.
“Getting a bit complicated,” said Rabbit.
At that moment, Pooh’s tummy made a little rumble. And that gave him an
idea.
Pooh had lunched with Rabbit before and knew that he never sat down to eat.
He would stop for a moment to take a bite of carrot and then hustle and bustle
around, picking up, rearranging, or making preparations for what he was going
to be doing next.
“What if you stop for a bit and catch your breath? Then we’ll sit here and
just eat,” Pooh suggested.
“Isn’t that a waste of time, just eating when I could be getting other things
done as well?” replied Rabbit.
“Let’s pay attention to what we experience as we eat our lunch,” Pooh
answered. “It takes a bit of practice to move slowly and notice as much as you
can. Being the clever rabbit that you are, I’m sure you’ll catch on in no time.”
“Now start very slowly and say aloud what you’re noticing, moment by
moment,” Pooh directed.
Rabbit began, “I’m reaching out my paws and picking up the bread. It feels a
 Rabbit began, “I’m reaching out my paws and picking up the bread. It feels a
little crumbly, and a drop of honey is running over the edge. Now I’m bringing it
to my mouth and taking a little nibble. The bread is chewy and the honey is
sweet.
“Now I’m setting the bread down and finishing chewing,” Rabbit continued.
“I’m reaching to the side and taking the cup in both paws, lifting it to my mouth
and drinking one sip, and another sip. Now I’m licking my lips and setting the
cup down.”
“Well done,” said Pooh. “Now let’s continue that way without the talking.”
And they ate in mindful silence until they were done.
After they were finished, Rabbit remarked, “Well, Pooh, that was something
of a surprise. Possibly the best lunch I’ve ever had. It may be that before now, I
never really tasted what I ate because I was always doing something else at the
same time, or thinking about what I was going to do next.”
“Excellent observation. Just the kind a clever rabbit like you would make.”
And Pooh thought of a “One Thing at a Time Rhyme”:

“Thank you, Pooh,” said Rabbit. “I feel like I can do what I need to in a less
hurried way. I believe I’ll enjoy things more, and they could even turn out
better.”

If I am incapable of washing dishes joyfully, if I want to finish them quickly so I can go and have
dessert, I will be equally incapable of enjoying my dessert. With the fork in my hand, I will be
thinking about what to do next, and the texture and the flavor of the dessert, together with the
pleasure of eating it, will be lost. I will always be dragged into the future, never able to live in the
present moment.

—from Savor: Mindful Eating, Mindful Life

by Thich Nhat Hanh In this day and age, multitasking is the norm. It’s rare that we are only doing one thing
at a time. Television, emails, and social networking—we feel like we have to keep up with all of them while
we’re working, playing, and eating.
However, multitasking isn’t actually possible. In the same way that we can only focus on one sense
perception, we can really only focus on one task at a time.
Pooh helped Rabbit discover that if your mind is else-where while you eat, you aren’t able to appreciate
the flavor of the food. Instead, when you eat, just eat. Take the time to notice the taste, temperature, and
texture of each bite. When you eat mindfully, it’s much more satisfying.
Even if you are doing one thing at a time, you might drift off into thinking about what’s next. You can
 Even if you are doing one thing at a time, you might drift off into thinking about what’s next. You can
be so concerned with how things will turn out in the end that you miss the experience of the journey. When
you recognize that you’re getting ahead of yourself, gently return to appreciate your experience in the here
and now.
Mindfulness also means experiencing the present moment without self-conscious judgment. So being
mindful provides the opportunity to recognize your patterns and to discover things about yourself that you
may not have noticed before.
Since it was getting late in the afternoon, Pooh decided it might be time to head
for home. He said goodbye to Rabbit and started off through the Wood. Pooh felt
happy that he’d been able to help Rabbit relax a bit, and smiled at the thought
that their friends would appreciate it, too.
Pooh hadn’t gone very far before the nice full lunch he’d eaten made him
sleepy. He had just come upon a little babbling brook with a weeping willow
beside it. The sound of the stream was soothing, and he noticed an inviting spot
on the soft moss under the shade of the tree. Hmmm, Pooh thought, just the spot
for a little nap.
Upon laying down and getting comfortable, Pooh used his breathing to settle
in. With each out-breath he let himself feel heavier and more relaxed, as if
sinking into the bed of moss. And before Pooh knew it, he was fast asleep.
He giggled softly as he dreamed that Piglet was tickling his tummy. When he
awoke, Pooh realized that the willow branches, reaching down toward the forest
floor, waving to and fro in the breeze, had been tickling him.
He fell back to sleep, and started dreaming again. This time he was a Pooh-
Bee, living in a big honeycomb surrounded by the delightful scent of delicious
honey. He took a big lick—mmmm, how scrumptious!
When Pooh woke up the next time, a curious question came to mind. He
wondered, Which is it? Was I a bear dreaming that I was a bee? Or am I now a
bee dreaming that I am a bear?
Well, needless to say, pondering a question like that can make even a Bear of
very little brain have some very deep thoughts.
 I suppose life is very much like a dream. I remember things that happened,
like my visits with Piglet and Rabbit, but they are gone right now, as if they were
a dream, he mused. And sometimes I drift into thoughts that become a
daydream. I miss what’s going on, as if I were asleep, until I wake up to the here
and now.
Pooh sat up and watched the brook flowing along. He thought, Life is like a
stream, too. There are places where it slows and it’s clear all the way to the
bottom. When it’s rushing along in a hurry, it’s white and cloudy and you can’t
see through. In the same way, when my mind is busy, it’s all muddled. But when
my mind is calm and peaceful, I can see clearly.
Just then a poem decided it was ready to appear, and Pooh named it his
“Waking Up Poem”:
 Resting in quiet reflection, an insight came to Pooh. He realized that
everything is always changing. Summer ripens into autumn; winter melts into
spring. Just like the seasons, everything changes as time passes. The caterpillar
has to disappear for the butterfly to emerge. Apple blossom flowers have to fall
for apples to grow.
What’s more, Pooh thought, everything depends on everything else. All my
friends and I wouldn’t be the same without the Wood that we live in, and it
wouldn’t be the same without us. We have our homes, our food, our water, and
everything we enjoy all around us.
We need to appreciate even the parts that are a bit of a bother. I’m not a big
fan of bees when they sting, but if they didn’t have stingers, birds would eat them
and I wouldn’t have any honey.
Some words gathered themselves into a “Seeing Clearly Poem”:

Every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

Nature without check with original energy.
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than
the journey-work of the stars.

—from Leaves of Grass

by Walt Whitman

We feel at peace communing with nature. There’s an innate interconnection among all living things and
their environment. Trees are our partners in breathing. Our lungs inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide;
trees absorb carbon dioxide and emit oxygen.
trees absorb carbon dioxide and emit oxygen.
We have a calm presence when we immerse ourselves in awareness of our sense perceptions, which are
always here and now. Being attuned to our moment-to-moment experience creates the clarity and openness
necessary for insights to emerge. We have the possibility of interesting, fresh ideas coming to us only when
we free ourselves from thoughts of stressful situations, worries, and to-do lists.
Seeing ourselves as part of nature makes things manageable. Seeing ourselves as separate—battling
with, in competition with, or needing to conquer nature—makes things ultimately unmanageable.
Not imposing our framework of likes and dislikes on the world, we discover natural harmony. It doesn’t
mean everyone is singing the same single note. Harmony means all the voices blend together into
something more than the sum of each individual one. That’s why in the Zen tradition they don’t say, “It’s
all one.” They say, “Everything is not-two.”
When you are in harmony, the world reveals its secrets. You can see the cycle of life: Sun showers bring
rainbows. Caterpillars become butterflies. Baby birds leave the nest. One season gives way to the next. And
so it goes.

How Your Senses Change

Choose a place to stand or sit for a while. Stay there for several minutes, moving as little as possible.
Open your eyes wide and see the big picture, as if you’re looking at a landscape. Without moving your
eyes to look around, how does the scene in front of you change?
Open your ears to listen for sounds from all directions. What can you hear? What can you feel on your
skin? What can you smell? How do things change while you’re there?
Resting your mind in this way for a period of time—not trying to figure anything out—be open to
whatever arises. From an instinctive sense of deep understanding, insights can bubble up. You may want to
record meaningful ideas that emerge.
If possible, return to this same place at different times of the day and during different seasons. Looking,
listening, smelling, and feeling, just notice the changes.
Pooh continued his gently mindful journey through the Wood. He soon came
upon Kanga and Roo, who were playing and laughing. He stopped behind a tree
to watch them.
Kanga swept Roo up in her arms as he hopped by. “I caught you, my little
Roo!” she cried. Then, when he tried to climb onto a tree branch, she called out,
“You can do it if you try!”
Pooh could see that Kanga was as loving and nurturing as Roo was
exuberant and playful. She gave him comfort and confidence while Roo, in
return, brought Kanga joy and laughter. Their gratitude and appreciation for each
other was crystal clear.
A loving little rhyme came to Pooh:

This is exactly how things should be with those we love, thought Pooh, as he
stepped out from behind the tree.
“Hello, Kanga!” he called.
“Hello, Pooh!” she said, as he walked toward them. “You look a bit different
today. What have you been doing?”
“Oh, just noticing,” replied Pooh, “while walking in the Wood and visiting
friends.”
“That sounds lovely,” said Kanga.
“I appreciate all my friends,” said Pooh, “and I’m so grateful to have them.”
“You know, Pooh, you have a special magic about you.”
“I do? What do you mean?”
“You can see what someone needs,” she explained, “and you provide it.
With love.”
“I just try to help them find what they already have. And I feel like I get
more from my friends than I give,” Pooh said humbly.
“That’s because when you offer love, you’re not looking for something in
return,” Kanga told him. “So, a lot more comes back to you.”
“You know, sometimes I do look for a little something,” admitted Pooh. “I
don’t mind when they offer me some honey.”
“And it’s usually well deserved,” she said.
“Why, thank you, Kanga.”
Talking to Kanga made Pooh think about all his friends and how he was a
different sort of Pooh for each of them. With Piglet, he was wise and generous.
With Owl, he felt silly and shy. When talking to Eeyore, he was positive and
energetic. With Tigger, he stayed settled and calm.
I suppose, thought Pooh, without me, my friends wouldn’t be who they are.
And without them, I wouldn’t really be Pooh.
And right there, on the spot, he thought of a “Friendship Poem”:

The combination of mindfulness and appreciation connects us fully with reality and brings us joy.
There can be a sense of gratitude to everything, even difficult emotions, because of their potential to
 wake us up. Really communicating from the heart and being there for someone else requires
openness.

—from Always Maintain a Joyful Mind

by Pema Chödrön

Mindfulness allows us to be more attuned to our experience in the here and now. That opens the door to
working with our thoughts and emotions, and finding peace of mind.
When we are at peace with ourselves, it’s easier to appreciate the qualities of others, without envy or
criticism. We can accept another person for the whole of who they are—the parts we like as well as the
parts we aren’t as fond of. That enables us to share in their joy, and support them when things aren’t going
so well. It’s gratifying both to give and to receive.

Gratitude
It’s natural to be grateful for the support of friends and family. But we can also be grateful for the lessons
learned from challenging situations. There is a slogan in the mindfulness tradition: “Be grateful to
everyone.”
There is much to be gained from interacting with difficult people. They provide the opportunity to
practice patience when they push our buttons. They require the development of sharp communication skills.
They offer a mirrorlike reflection of our state of mind: our hopes, our fears, and even what we find
uncomfortable about ourselves. If we don’t react defensively, difficult people can be a catalyst for our
waking up.
It’s helpful to make a Gratitude List. Include everyone and everything that contributes to your
happiness. Also include those who are challenging and provide you opportunities to work with your
attitudes and emotional reactions. Review your list and update it regularly.

Listening and Speaking

When listening and speaking, are you genuinely present for the other person? Here are some things to
notice:

When someone is talking to you, do you look at them and listen attentively to their words and
expressions?
Are you truly taking in everything the other person has to say before responding? Or do you start
composing an answer when you get an idea of where they’re heading?
Do you hear all they have to say, or do you interrupt and start answering before they are done?

Use awareness of your breathing as an anchor to stay present and listen fully, leaving space for them to
finish, and then give a thoughtful response.
A valuable practice for self-awareness is asking, “What is my response based on?” Am I open to
exploring differences of opinion in an unbiased way, eager for the opportunity to learn? Am I answering as
a competition, trying to convince the other person I’m right? Am I communicating with honesty and
integrity? Or am I more concerned with getting my way and making myself look good?
If you have a heartfelt desire for authentic communication, you can change your listening and speaking
habits. By just noticing, with nonjudgmental awareness, you will start to be more present when listening—
and your speaking will better reflect your values.
Mindfulness allows you to be more authentically responsive to others, beyond personal preference and
emotional reactivity. That is the basis for genuine communication.
After his visit with Kanga and Roo, Pooh headed home. The sun dipped down
to play hide-and-seek behind the trees, and a cool, brisk breeze blew through the
Wood. Warmed by the love he received from Kanga (and still nicely full inside
from his mindful meal with Rabbit), Pooh wasn’t at all chilled. He kept just
noticing sights, sounds, and smells, and practiced mindful walking, feeling the
forest floor with each step.
Arriving at home as darkness settled over the Wood, Pooh made himself a
little cup of tea, with a generous dollop of honey, before snuggling into his
comfy chair. Taking a deep settling breath, he began his regular practice of
reflecting on the day.
First, Pooh recalled the intentions he had set that morning, and contemplated
how well he was able to fulfill them. He reflected on when he was mindful:
playing with Roo, walking with Piglet, and eating with Rabbit. He remembered
when he wasn’t mindful: daydreaming about sweeping leaves.
Pooh thought of the times he was kind to others: encouraging Piglet and
cheering up Eeyore. He recognized when he wasn’t so genuinely present:
thinking about how soon he might get some honey.
He felt heartened by what went particularly well. Aimlessly wandering in the
Wood—being bathed in a delightful swirl of sights, sounds, and smells—was
very enriching. And he had the pleasant surprise of running into Roo—a
reminder that just noticing is seeing everything as new.
Pooh also acknowledged what could have gone better (without giving
himself a hard time): it had been a bit trying to get Tigger to be more mindful of
Piglet, and Piglet to be more accepting of Tigger.
Finally, he set his aspirations for the next day: to renew his intentions, to do
his best to fulfill them, and to feel at least as satisfied at the end of tomorrow as
he did this evening.
To conclude, Pooh recited his “Evening Rhyme”:
 He rested in mindfulness for a few minutes, then got up, put on his
nightshirt, and climbed into bed. With a smile, a stretch, and a yawn, he tucked
himself in and went to sleep.

In the end, just three things matter: How well we have lived. How well we have loved. How well we
have learned to let go.

—from A Path with Heart

by Jack Kornfield
Make each day a sandwich. Every day starts with intention and ends with recollection, and all that we do is
sandwiched in between.
First thing in the morning, sit quietly and establish your basic intentions for the day: how you would like
to work with your own experience and relate to others.
Divide your intentions into three areas, corresponding to body, speech, and mind. Although they are
interdependent, you can choose an intention for each one.
Overall, be as mindful as you can with respect to how much you are keeping to or straying from your
intentions throughout the day.
The other part of the sandwich happens in the evening. At the close of the day, take a few moments for
reflection. Review in a nonjudgmental way how well you fulfilled your intentions. It’s not a contest; you
don’t win or lose. Just take stock of what happened without praise or blame.
To whatever extent you were not mindful and kind, make a commitment that you’ll do your best to
improve tomorrow. To whatever extent you maintained mindfulness and acted with kindness, think happily
that it benefited others as well as yourself.
Having completed the sandwich of the day, sleep well.
 Parting Words
It is our hope that you enjoyed
taking this Walk in the Wood
with Winnie the Pooh and his friends.
May it offer you a path to deepen
your understanding and appreciation
for the preciousness of living
in the here and now.
May it inspire you to ever-growing
caring and kindness toward yourself
and all those you encounter
on your gently mindful journey
through life.
 References and Recommended Readings
Beck, Charlotte Joko. Everyday Zen. New York: HarperCollins, 1989.
Chadwick, David (ed.). Zen Is Right Here. Boston: Shambhala, 2011.
Chödrön, Pema. Always Maintain a Joyful Mind. Boston: Shambhala, 2007.
Chödrön, Pema. No Time to Lose. Boston: Shambhala, 2007.
Chödrön, Pema. The Places That Scare You. Boston: Shambhala, 2001.
Cornell, Joseph. The Sky and Earth Touched Me. Nevada City, CA: Crystal
Clarity, 2014.
Hahn, Thich Nhat. The Miracle of Mindfulness. Boston: Beacon Press, 1975.
Hahn, Thich Nhat. Peace Is Every Step. New York: Bantam, 1991.
Hahn, Thich Nhat. Savor: Mindful Eating, Mindful Life. New York:
HarperCollins, 2010.
Kabat-Zinn, Jon. Wherever You Go, There You Are. New York: Hyperion, 1994.
Kornfield, Jack. A Path with Heart. New York: Bantam, 1993.
Parent, Joseph. The Best Diet Book Ever: The Zen of Losing Weight. Ojai, CA:
Zen Arts, 2015.
Parent, Joseph. Zen Golf: Mastering the Mental Game. New York: Doubleday,
2002.
Reps, Paul and Nyogen Senzaki. Zen Flesh, Zen Bones. Boston: Tuttle
Publishing, 1957.
Salzberg, Sharon. Real Happiness at Work. New York: Workman Publishing,
2014.
Suzuki, Shunryu. Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind. New York: Weatherhill, 1970.
Trungpa, Chögyam. Meditation in Action. Boston: Shambhala, 1969.
Trungpa, Chögyam. Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior. Boston:
Shambhala, 1984.
Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass. Brooklyn, NY: J.&A. Rome, 1855.
 About the Authors
DR. JOSEPH PARENT, Nancy’s brother, has practiced and taught Mindfulness
and principles of psychology in the Buddhist tradition since the 1970s in the
lineage of Venerable Chögyam Trungpa, one of the great teachers to come to the
West from Tibet. Dr. Parent is the best-selling author of Zen Golf: Mastering the
Mental Game, Zen Tennis: Playing in the Zone, The Best Diet Book Ever: The
Zen of Losing Weight, and several other works. He is a highly regarded keynote
speaker and coach of Performance Psychology in wellness, business, and sports.
Dr. Parent teaches in Ojai, California, where he makes his home with his wife,
Megan. For information on his keynotes and executive coaching, please visit
drjoeparent.com.

NANCY PARENT, Joseph’s sister, is a twenty-year veteran of Disney

Publishing Worldwide, editing and writing books for the MouseWorks and
Disney Press vertical imprints as well as Disney global publishers. In addition,
Nancy has written and edited for DreamWorks, Simon & Schuster, Scholastic,
Reader’s Digest Children’s Books, Studio Fun, Nickelodeon, Warner Brothers,
Andrews & McMeel, 20th Century Fox, Suzy’s Zoo, and Flashlight Press. She
resides in Burbank, California.